


New Worlds

by tromana



Category: Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Musicals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 18:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She felt like she could take on anything as long as she had him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Worlds

She felt as though they had been walking for an eternity. The burden of leaving Oz was still lying heavily on her shoulders. Elphaba hadn’t expected to feel like she was losing something – rarely had she truly felt like she belonged there – but still, she did. There was Glinda, of course, and Chistery, Dr. Dillamond, and her fight for animal rights. No family, though. Not since Nessa…

At least Fiyero was by her side. She felt like she could take on anything as long as she had him.

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what life had in store for them next.

As if she would ever truly fit in anywhere else. Really, how could she with skin this shade of green? It was a virtual impossibility; as much as she wanted desperately to hide in the background, she always stood out from the crowd. And if she couldn’t belong in Oz, the place where she was born, how could she ever settle down and live somewhere unburdened?

“Let’s sit.”

Elphaba turned to face Fiyero, surprised that he had actually spoken at all. It felt like they had been walking in silence for so long, connected only by the hands that held them steadfastly together. Eventually, she nodded; her feet ached, her bones ached, everything did. They didn’t seem to be heading anywhere specific; endless yellow fields surrounded them for as far as the eye could see. She didn’t even have her broomstick, or anything else she could enchant in order to ensure they moved a little faster.

Then again, there wasn’t any guarantee that she could even use magic here. For all she knew, it was a sad, lonely place without that delicate touch required for sorcery. And even if it did, she no longer held the Grimmerie in her possession. Glinda would take good care of it, she was certain of that, even if she would never be able to use it. There were certain spells and enchantments she could remember, but not everything.

Besides, it had caused her so much trouble in the past. Trouble was something she most certainly didn’t want anymore.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” she asked, peeling her shoes off as she did so.

“No,” he answered. “Does it matter?”

“No,” she agreed. _As long as you’re mine_ , she thought. She couldn’t do this without him.

Fiyero stared at her feet for a second and a smirk quickly traced itself across his lips. The scarecrow face was more capable of showing a range of emotions than she’d ever believed. She wished that she could have done it better still, done what he’d deserved, but he was alive, he was whole. What else had changed about his capabilities – in life, in death, creating a family, even feeling – remained to be seen. It was something they would have to work out together.

“Your socks.”

“What about them?” she asked, innocently.

“Nessa’s?”

“Yes.”

“But you still wanted the shoes?”

“Socks are just socks, Fiyero,” she answered back, not sure whether to laugh or be annoyed. “I needed the shoes. Who knows what properties they held after I-“

Her voice caught at that moment and she couldn’t finish her sentence.

In the end, she managed to pull herself together and continue. She wondered briefly where Fiyero had got this patient streak from. When she’d first met him, he’d been nothing like this. Glinda, Nessa, Boq, the Wizard, Morrible, herself, Fiyero… Oz had distorted them all over time. For some it was for the better, but others less so. Change was important, though. Elphaba knew that better than most.

“It’s a matter of principle,” she eventually concluded.

“And a keepsake,” Fiyero acquiesced. “Something to remember her by.”

“I don’t need something to remember her by,” Elphaba replied hotly and tapped the side of her head gently. “I have this.”

“Still nice to have something of home though.”

“How can it be home if we cannot return?”

“We’ll find a new home,” he assured her and she smiled weakly. “Oz will always be the place we were born.”

“I know.”

“Let’s move on now.”

“New places to discover.”

“New _worlds_ ,” he added, grinning.

So they continued, hand in hand. It wasn’t going to be easy, but what did it matter? Life was a journey; it was the experience that counted. And as long as he could still see the beauty in her, Elphaba knew that she would be able to stay grounded, wherever they landed up.


End file.
